The capital of Yunyan Kingdom now, a city shimmering with perpetual light, never sleeps. Upon its grand avenues, a white-robed youth sends his sleeves billowing, like twin clouds descended to earth, shaking them with such fervor as though capturing fireflies in their folds.

He passes a gilded pleasure house, where the air hangs heavy with the scent of perfume. From the upper balconies, painted beauties leaned, their silken sleeves beckoning. But as their eyes fell upon the handsome young man below, some hid their faces behind delicate fans, others cast fleeting glances, their laughter softening to murmurs.

“Mere show,” a voice inquired, “empty boasting?”

Cui Dongshan sighed theatrically. “When one ventures abroad, honesty is paramount. I speak only truth, straight from the heart.”

Pei Qian, however, remained unconvinced by the Great White Goose’s pronouncements.

Cui Dongshan shifted tactics. “Matters settled over wine are simple, are they not? ‘Certainly,’ ‘A trifle, no problem at all,’ ‘Leave it to me,’ ‘A cup of wine and we are brothers,’ ‘Next time, the drinks are on me.'”

“Chen Lingjun loves his wine,” Pei Qian countered, “he wishes he could swim in it. But even he doesn’t behave like that.”

Cui Dongshan chuckled. “It is different for him. He has never actually drunk wine.”

Pei Qian frowned, failing to grasp the distinction.

Cui Dongshan offered no further explanation.

Were a cultivator to take flight and survey the land from above, the city’s myriad lights in the deepening dusk would resemble nothing more than fireflies trapped within a cage.

Unlike the Jade Decree Sect or the Cloudgrass Hall of Mount Pu, the Azure Spire Sword Sect had never purchased a residence within the capital. The Emperor of Yunyan and the Ministry of Rites had made ready for them, reluctant to slight the sole Sword Sect of the Continent to bear the weight of a family name, but Zhong Qiu had declined, choosing instead to settle near Fish Scale Crossing, accommodating themselves upon their ferryboat.

The Fallen Peak and the Azure Spire Sword Sect, upper and lower houses now, possessed two transcontinental ferries of enviable renown. The Wind Kite, “purchased” from the Xuanmi Dynasty of Middle Earth, and the Thunder Chariot, from the Yao Family of Great Spring, each plied their distinct routes. The former traversed the north-south trade lane between the Northern Reaches, Bottle Continent, and Leaf Continent, while the latter traveled east-west, connecting Leaf Continent, Southern Shavasa Continent, and Rising Phoenix Continent. The Dragon Boat “Inked Plum” and the “Tung Grove” given to the Azure Spire Sword Sect by the Wealth God Liu, followed the flow of money within the continent, expanding the Sect’s influence along established trade routes.

And the Great Li Sword Barge “Bing Ding” now sat at anchor by Fish Scale Crossing.

On Leaf Continent they say a Sword Barge is a fearsome sight, cutting down demons as one clips weeds.

This particular vessel was “wept” for by the sorely pressed Sect Leader Cui from the ancestral hall of Verdant Peak, lent down to the lower house for now.

The poor Sect Leader Cui felt increasingly unwelcome on Fallen Peak. His own master treated him as though he were a thief.

Cui Dongshan turned and gazed back towards the city gates.

Fortune and misfortune share a door, advantage and detriment dwell in the same city. Joy and sorrow chime like cicadas in the willows; grief and joy flow beneath the surface like a hidden stream. How many blossoms bloom and fall in a single night on this mortal plane?

The white-robed youth raised his gaze toward the ramparts. He remembered the old rascal, having completed his official duties, spending the night poring over obscure texts. Then, in the moments before dawn, he would venture atop the outer wall, observing those who waited to enter and leave the city.

Arriving at the crossing, Cui Dongshan was overcome by sentimentality. Ever since becoming the diligent Ferry Sect Leader, he had grown estranged from Fallen Peak.

Sighing and muttering, he boarded the ferryboat, his hands clasped behind his back. Master Zhong had taken the aspiring swordsmen away for training, leaving only the old-timers on board.

Feng Xuetao, known as Azure Secret, was a frequent visitor. He had recently accompanied Jiang Shangzhen on a trip to Fallen Peak, and long ago, had even been dragged to the Wild Desolate Land by some damnable fellow. Yet as war loomed, he was deemed a hindrance, only impeding the drawing of a sword. He remembered the humiliating day in the Confucian Temple of Middle Earth when Left and Ah Liang had challenged him to a duel, one right after the other.

Feng Xuetao blushed, reluctant to speak of the matter, but it had become a feat celebrated far and wide. With the lifting of restrictions on the Nine Continent Mountain and River Gazette, Azure Secret’s name had grown, rivaling even that of the “tender Taoist” who had made a name for himself at Duck Mandarin Isle.

“To endure two duels in a single day, and the old immortal Azure Secret did not sustain a scratch! Could you do the same?”

Even with his rough ways and brazen face, Feng Xuetao would never utter such words, crediting it all to the tireless promotion of a certain friend.

In the past, the emergence of a new Jade Purity Realm cultivator within a continent was no small matter, capable of providing fodder for gossip for years.

Like Liu Laocheng of the Scroll Creek Lake, who had risen from humble origins to become the first Jade Purity Realm in Bottle Continent. The gazettes would have felt irreverent to ignore him.

But now, if a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator were to ascend to the Upper Five Realms, the gazettes barely took note, if they even bothered to mention it at all.

Cui Dongshan grimaced, muttering to himself. “I wonder how many new Fourteenths and Ascensions will be needed to fill those three gaping holes.”

Two Sword Cultivators native to the Sword Qi Great Wall, Xing Yun and Liu Shui, were already on board, having prepared a table to entertain Feng Xuetao.

The old woman’s cooking was unremarkable, prompting a few complaints from Xing Yun, causing her to quit in a huff. As a result, Feng Xuetao, the guest, found himself in the kitchen, preparing a few of his signature dishes.

Rustic cultivators of the wilds were often skilled in all trades.

Feng Xuetao was relieved that they didn’t treat him as an Ascended cultivator.

Sword cultivators had high standards, especially those from the Sword Qi Great Wall. Since Feng Xuetao was an Ascended cultivator, their talk revolved around the matters of great figures.

In the vast world, several new Ascensions had already been documented, such as Wang Jia, known as Void Sovereign, on Rising Phoenix Continent, and the Lord of the Heavenly Corner Cave on Flowing Glow Continent.

Even the Qi Refiners on the mountainside suspected, based on the gazettes and whispers, that a few new Fourteenths had emerged.

But who they were remained to be seen.

Cui Dongshan took a seat beside Xing Yun, draping an arm around the old sword cultivator’s shoulders.

Pei Qian silently sat near Liu Shui. The old woman smiled kindly, brushing a stray hair from the young woman’s face. The girl was pretty enough, but she never bothered to adorn herself.

Liu Shui continued the earlier conversation. “Listening to you talk, it seems that a Celestial Realm cultivator of embroidery is no longer quite so valuable.”

Feng Xuetao shook his head. “Even in a hundred or a thousand years, a Celestial Realm sword cultivator will be worth his weight in gold.”

Liu Shui casually asked, “What about ten thousand years from now?”

Feng Xuetao chuckled. “Who can think that far ahead?”

Cui Dongshan grinned. “Indeed, who knows what the future holds? Perhaps a Fourth or Fifth Realm wild beast will be a monstrous demon roaming the land, and a Qi Refiner who somehow manages to reach the Cave Mansion Realm will be hailed as a land immortal, having passed through the celestial gate, residing permanently in the mortal realm, a being spoken of only in whispers and legends.”

Liu Shui tilted his chin towards Feng Xuetao. “Earlier, we were discussing martial arts. Friend Azure Secret believes that Cao Ci stands as the towering mountain of the martial path, while Chen Ping’an is but the vast and endless river.”

Xing Yun nodded. “Feng’s implied meaning is that to truly reach the pinnacle of martial arts, one must look to Cao Ci. Our Hidden Official merely benefits from also being a cultivator, thus proving the path to immortality.”

Feng Xuetao was annoyed. Why were they being so serious during a casual chat over wine? Feng Xuetao glanced at Pei Qian.

Cui Dongshan feigned shock. “So, Senior Azure Secret is capable of grand pronouncements, not just simple talk!”

Noticing Feng Xuetao’s gaze, Pei Qian laughed freely. “Even my master doesn’t believe he can defeat Cao Ci.”

Cui Dongshan raised his bowl as if to drain it, but set it down with its contents untouched, smacking his lips. “Lu Zhi may soon emerge from closed cultivation, the kind that requires no outside assistance, and break through his bottleneck to reach Ascension.”

Xing Yun asked, “Why did Lu Zhi go to the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect to follow Qi Tingji? Why didn’t he come here as a guest elder? Mi Yu said that Lu Zhi and the Hidden Official got along quite well.”

Cui Dongshan rubbed his chin. “Indeed. If Lu Zhi were to join our Azure Spire Sword Sect, Great Sword Immortal Mi wouldn’t need to run all over the place with the title of chief disciple. What a fine thing that would be.”

Cui Dongshan abruptly asked, “Elder Brother Feng, do you have the confidence to take it one step further? So that I can boast about my connections to the highest echelons, knowing a few Fourteenths and having had the honor of sharing a table with them.”

Feng Xuetao felt helpless. “With my talents? Unsuitable timber, a mere spectacle for the masses, good only for amusement.”

Cui Dongshan sighed. “Elder brother ascended, younger brother a celestial, alas, neither are exceptional. Add in Chief Zhou and Great Sword Immortal Mi, who spends his days basking in the sun. If we could gather around a table, we would probably end up crying into our wine.”

Jiang Shangzhen had fallen from Ascension back to Celestial. Regaining Ascension would be exceedingly difficult. Mi Yu, having reached Celestial, was content, secretly compiling a cookbook on Fallen Peak, spending his days with Grandmaster Zhong, haggling over dishes. After a satisfying meal, he would emerge from the old cook’s house with a toothpick in his teeth and a contented burp, already contemplating the next meal.

Feng Xuetao chose not to engage in such talk, which diluted the wine.

In truth, Feng Xuetao disliked chatting with Cui Dongshan. It was mentally taxing, making him feel as if the other’s words always had hidden meanings, and he was too dense to understand them.

Perhaps Jiang Shangzhen was right. The truly intelligent, even when silent, possessed an inherent sharpness that needed no display.

Chen Ping’an, having traveled mostly on foot, appeared weary from the road, arriving at the ferryboat with Xie Gou in tow.

Seeing the girl in the mink cap, of whom she had heard so much, Liu Shui immediately rose. Xing Yun hesitated, nodding in acknowledgement to the young Hidden Official before following the old woman away.

Chen Ping’an said nothing. He would not force friendship.

Xie Gou was indifferent. But if the two Jade Purity Realm cultivators were so standoffish with Xiao Mo, then he wouldn’t treat them as if they were all in the same boat.

Pei Qian began to rise, but Chen Ping’an gestured for her to remain seated and continue drinking. She was a grown woman, accustomed to wandering the world. A little wine was nothing.

After exchanging pleasantries with Feng Xuetao, Chen Ping’an curiously asked, “Did you say something to Master Fan? Xie Gou said he lingered at a street corner, hesitant to leave the alley.”

Cui Dongshan spoke vaguely, careful not to lie outright but also concealing the full truth. “I wagered that Master Fan could reach Fourteenth by leaving the alley. It seems Master Fan lacks confidence.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Master Fan lacks confidence, but the Sect Leader Cui does not?”

Cui Dongshan deliberately ignored the unwelcome title and tentatively asked, “Why doesn’t Master ask the Sage of Rites for a definitive answer? Whether successful or not, Master Fan would surely be grateful.”

Chen Ping’an glared. Did he think the Sage of Rites, watching the azure paths of two worlds, was as idle as him?

At that moment, a hurried voice echoed in Chen Ping’an’s heart. “Hurry to the alley and see the wealthy Master Fan! Say nothing! Gain that free favor, and profit a few thousand… we scholars do not speak of money, it is unseemly, we are simply kindred spirits, sharing the same ideals.”

Having received his master’s instructions, Chen Ping’an obeyed without hesitation, casting the Shrinking Earth magic, heading to the alley to meet the hesitant Master Fan.

Cui Dongshan muttered, “Master is a man of action, consistent in word and deed. I have learned something new.”

Xie Gou quickly turned to Pei Qian. “Write it down! Add it to the ledger!”

Pei Qian smiled. “You and Junior Sister Guo belong to the same faction; the little Senior Brother and I are on the same side.”

Xie Gou laughed. “No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

In the alley, Master Fan saw Chen Ping’an approaching, who clasped his fist and smiled, as if congratulating him.

Master Fan had assumed Chen Ping’an was coming to apologize on behalf of Sect Leader Cui, or perhaps to discuss a business deal.

But as he saw that Chen Ping’an made no move to speak, understanding dawned upon him, and Master Fan steadied his Dao heart.

Chen Ping’an remained silent, and Master Fan grew ever more certain of his suspicions, his mind racing, carefully considering his options.

Chen Ping’an admired the merchant patriarch’s unwavering Dao heart.

Master Fan looked up at the sky and slowly said, “If the Sage of Rites truly approves, and if I can surely reach Fourteenth, then perhaps I should delay, and wait until the Vast World has won the war before merging with the Dao.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Ping’an bowed.

Master Fan’s expression was solemn as he returned the bow.

Beyond the celestial river, the two old men eagerly awaited the events unfolding in the human alley. Yu Xuan asked, “Old Scholar, is it only after passing this hurdle that Master Fan will be truly complete? And only then will the Sage of Rites truly agree to his future merging with the Dao?”

Regardless of how much the Confucian Temple elevated the status of merchants among the schools of thought, if their patriarch, Master Fan, remained limited in his realm, it would be worlds apart from him being able to merge with the Dao.

In fact, within the Confucian Temple, not only the Second Sage and Fu Sheng, along with the seventy-two sages, but even the Old Scholar himself had always disagreed with excessively elevating the status of merchants.

The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled. “Good.”

Yu Xuan asked, “You didn’t remind Chen Fellow Daoist of anything or hint at anything to Fan, did you?”

The Old Scholar glared. “Old Yu, what nonsense are you spouting? Who do you take the Sage of Rites to be? Do you think he couldn’t see through such underhanded dealings?”

Yu Xuan felt wronged. “Why are you getting so defensive? I was just afraid you might overdo it, only to harm Chen Fellow Daoist’s reputation with the Sage of Rites, being misunderstood as someone who acts out of self-interest.”

Here, the Old Immortal couldn’t help but glance at the Old Scholar, wondering if he was putting on a brave face, revealing a guilty conscience.

The Old Scholar chuckled, patting Yu Xuan on the shoulder, implying everything without saying a word.

In truth, their relationship had been so-so. One had always been afraid of poverty, while the other had never worried about money. What was there to talk about? Perhaps to discuss how to balance the distribution of wealth?

Things were different now. They were as close as could be.

The two quickly rose as the Sage of Rites arrived.

The Sage of Rites said, “Someone once gave me a rather utilitarian suggestion: that the Confucian Temple should either openly elevate the status of merchants, but confine the realms of the merchants’ patriarchs to Celestial, not even aspiring to Ascension. Or the Confucian Temple could create a path to Dao merging for Master Fan alone, but make the merchants forever the lowest among the schools of thought.”

Yu Xuan said, “That’s quite ruthless.”

The Old Immortal suspected that the suggestion was meant to prevent the future Great Dao from closely overlapping with the path of wealth.

However, if Master Fan or the merchants’ disciples were to learn the truth, they would all suffer a collapse of their Dao hearts.

The Old Scholar listened, saying neither good nor bad, neither kind nor unkind.

The Sage of Rites asked, “What do you think Chen Ping’an was thinking in his heart when he stood at the alley entrance?”

Yu Xuan’s expression changed slightly. “I dare not imagine.”

Would the junior disciple follow in Cui Chan’s footsteps, or would he go against them?

The Old Scholar calmly said, “There’s no need to imagine.”

————

Middle Earth Continent, a grotto-heaven secret realm not recorded in history.

A massive bronze mirror occupied an area of hundreds of feet.

Twenty chairs stood before the mirror, like an ancestral hall without jade registers.

A Qi Refiner quietly entered the secret realm, lighting nine incense sticks.

The cultivators attending the meeting did not need to be physically present, nor did they even need to divide a mote of their spirit.

Historically, the meetings had never had a full attendance. Sometimes there were fourteen or fifteen, other times only five or six.

According to the established rules, one incense stick meant attending if available, ignoring it if busy.

Three incense sticks meant making an effort to attend. Failing to attend three such meetings in a row would result in automatic disqualification and loss of the right to attend.

Nine incense sticks meant mandatory attendance, unless one was undergoing a life-or-death closed-door cultivation, or facing an urgent situation involving the fundamentals of one’s Great Dao, or had an Ascension Realm cultivator standing nearby who might detect something. However, failing to attend two such meetings in a row would result in self-inflicted consequences, as the other nineteen would consider them a common enemy of their Great Dao.

In the past three hundred years, there had been few occasions to light nine incense sticks.

In chronological order, there was the breaking of the Sword Qi Great Wall by the Wild Desolate demon race, Qi Jingchun protecting the Li Pearl Grotto-Heaven, and the thirteen-way contest between the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Wild Desolate world.

The two chairs at the front were almost always empty.

Even when they did appear, they rarely spoke, and who they might have spoken to through soul-to-soul communication remained a mystery.

The attendees either shrouded themselves in clouds or used illusions, as no one wished to reveal their true identity.

The most unusual thing today was the appearance of two central chairs, one old and one new.

The attendees did not distinguish between high and low status; they simply cooperated, each taking what they needed, with no forced transactions.

Of course, if one’s identity and realm were discovered, then the bargaining was a different matter.

In less than the time it took to burn an incense stick, most of the members had arrived and taken their seats in the “ancestral hall.”

Of the twenty-two chairs, the four most special ones remained vacant.

Before the meeting officially began, a female cultivator asked with a laugh, “Situ Mengjing wouldn’t even take the Sect Leader position when it was offered to him, so why is he willing to go down the mountain to be a mountain master? It must be an amusing sight when he hangs up his portrait and burns incense to it with the younger generation at Little Dragon Pool’s ancestral hall?”

Situ Mengjing, known as Dragon Beard, was the current mountain master of Little Dragon Pool.

It was akin to a Minister going to a local prefecture as a governor, a classic case of overqualified assignment.

Several cultivators exchanged knowing glances, looking at the Immortal hosting the ceremony, the apparent host of this strange ancestral hall.

The Immortal remained indifferent, closing his eyes to rest for a moment before changing the topic. “We can now confirm that Han Yushu has not met with an accident. He was recently summoned to Heavenly Eye Academy by Wen Yu. Ten Thousand Jade Sect received a stern ‘invitation’ from the academy.”

Someone gloated. “That Wen Yu is no simpleton. He and Gao Xuandu of Laiyuan Academy are among those being cultivated by the Confucian Temple. They’ll all be academy heads at the very least, possibly becoming directors or libationers. Han Yushu won’t have any luck there, will he? Don’t be surprised if Heavenly Eye Academy announces in a few days that Han Yushu has been taken to the Middle Earth Merit Forest for tea.”

Someone spoke up for Sect Leader Han. “Wen Yu seems to be a sword cultivator as well, with unusual flying sword techniques. Han Yushu may not be able to escape.”

“That may be, but the established rules cannot be changed. One more time, and he won’t be able to attend the meeting. It would be better if he were imprisoned in the Merit Forest; at least he wouldn’t die.”

Unlike the four chairs that remained vacant, the attendees present had mixed feelings as they looked at the empty seats of those “old acquaintances.”

Even if someone were to sit in those seats, it would be someone else.

For instance, Criminal Official Hao Su had gone to the Azure Clarity Heaven, now residing in the Divine Sky City of Jade Capital.

Moreover, Hao Su had voluntarily relinquished his position, replaced by his personal disciple, Du Shanyin. The last meeting had included a discussion of this matter, and it had been approved.

Thus, Hao Su’s position was now filled by Du Shanyin.

A young sword cultivator from the Sword Qi Great Wall named Du Shanyin.

It was his first time attending the meeting, but Du Shanyin showed no timidity, lazily leaning against the back of his chair.

He both wished to see the young Hidden Official there and did not want Chen Ping’an to be present.

A cultivator asked the newcomer, knowing his true identity but still not revealing his name. “I want that maidservant following you, Ji Qing. Name your price, as high as you want. Don’t worry about scaring me.”

Du Shanyin said, “If you can guarantee that I will ascend within a hundred years, I’ll give you Ji Qing today.”

The other scoffed. “I’m only at the Celestial Realm myself. You’re asking for the impossible. I could guarantee you becoming a sword immortal; that’s not as difficult.”

A Celestial teaching ascension methods?

What dreams the young had.

This Du Shanyin truly was Hao Su’s only direct disciple, with a good teacher to rely on, speaking with such confidence.

Ji Qing, who was inseparable from Changming in the prisons of the Sword Qi Great Wall, was the embodiment of gold, copper, and silver coins. Ji Qing was the incarnation of the original coin of Grain Rain.

Du Shanyin asked, “Where is the incarnation of ‘Ancestor Spring’ hiding now? Does anyone have definite information?”

The first coin ever minted was known as “Ancestor Spring.”

It had appeared a few times over the millennia, with glimpses in the Azure Clarity Heaven and the Western Buddhist Kingdom. The last time it was sighted, it was before the Dragon Slaying battle, discovered by a Great Cultivator hiding in the Scripture Depository of the Dragon Palace beneath the sea.

Du Shanyin had promised his master that when his swordsmanship was perfected and he attained Ascension, the days of the flower thieves would be over.

It seemed his master had once received help from the Hundred Flowers Paradise during a time of trouble, owing them a great favor.

With Hao Su gone to the Azure Clarity Heaven, the debt naturally fell upon Du Shanyin’s shoulders.

Perhaps it was due to his inexperience, but no one bothered to pay attention to the young sword cultivator.

Du Shanyin felt deflated but maintained his composure, patiently listening to the news that was difficult to find in the mountain and river gazettes.

“That one from Colorful Heaven, she went to the Abyssal Capital again shortly after arriving in the Vast World. Her sword is exceptionally ruthless.”

They naturally did not dare to call Ning Yao by name.

“It can now be confirmed that Liu, the Wealth God of Snowy Heaven, has reached Fourteenth.”

“The old immortal of Northern Reaches has successfully merged with the Dao.”

“In Snowy Heaven, besides Liu the Wealth God successfully merging with the Dao in his ancestral hall, wasn’t there another new Fourteenth merging with the Dao around the same time? Was it that Wei?”

“There’s been quite a stir around Quanjiao Mountain in Rising Phoenix Continent. I hear several extraordinary people have appeared.”

“The foundation of that mountain in Bottle Continent is becoming increasingly unfathomable. Haha, I wonder what a certain woman who is a neighbor of theirs is thinking.”

“Well, she has a good senior brother with connections everywhere, so I doubt she minds such trivial matters.”

“Leaning on a senior brother is a matter of luck. Looking across the realms, few can compare to her. Is that the Liu libertine? It seems he could rival her.”

Generally speaking, language here, except for avoiding direct names of Fourteenth cultivators, could be used without restraint, but when someone ridiculed Liu Chicheng, several people hastily coughed.

They were afraid to even mention not just Zheng Juzhong’s name, but even the city of White Emperor. And this was before Zheng Juzhong reached the Fourteenth Realm.

Avoiding people and things related to the city of White Emperor seemed to be an unspoken rule here.

While they were chatting, more cultivators continued to arrive and take their seats.

Tian Wan had always been eager to attend meetings, arriving early, but today she was late. She seemed to have used some secret technique.

The proud woman rarely showed a hint of apology, explaining to the crowd why she was late and the extra precautions she had taken. “I was tricked by Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, especially the former. He is meticulous and malicious, regularly examining my spirit and memories, so I had to be careful.”

The woman with the red thread on her wrist looked towards a vacant position that had not yet been filled. She sighed. “Old Xun, what a pity.”

“Isn’t someone even more exaggerated when it comes to senior brothers?”

“Not just senior brother, but teacher, Dao partner, and personal luck. What doesn’t this person have?”

“Blessed with everything, we can’t envy him.”

A woman who had been resting her chin on her hand, listening to their idle chatter, smiled. “Just a reminder. When you talk about the new Hidden Official, be respectful.”

Someone sneered. “Strange. Aren’t you on the opposing side?”

Indeed, there were different factions among the sword cultivators of the Hidden Official lineage. The two masters of the Summer Retreat Palace, first Xiao Xun, a local sword cultivator who chose to defect from the Sword Qi Great Wall, and then Chen Ping’an, an outsider to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

She smiled. “I’m just reminding you. Whether you take it seriously is up to you.”

A Middle Earth Immortal in a mediocre position was struggling internally, wondering whether to inform that Mr. Zheng… no, Mr. Chen.

He thought about it, but it seemed unnecessary. With “those two’s” intellect, they could probably come and go as they pleased?

Just then, the Immortal who was hosting the meeting stood up and said in a deep voice, “Today’s meeting is different from the past. First, the masters of the four chairs will all appear. Second, we will all reveal our true faces today. Anyone who is unwilling to face others in this way may leave now.”

Despite their various thoughts and considerations, no one chose to leave.

Someone asked with hesitation, “What was the original purpose of creating this place?”

Two on each side of the four vacant chairs, both had already appeared. One, a small Daoist with a strong aura, held a miniature banner, having traveled across realms.

The Daoist rasped, “I never thought my old friends would have withered to this extent. It’s become a luxury to reminisce.”

The other shocked everyone. It was Wei She, the master of the seventy-two peaks of Snowy Heaven, who had rarely left his abode in three thousand years. He stood beside the chair, not seeming eager to sit, merely reaching out to hold the chair, smiling. “I asked this question a long time ago. It seemed to stem from Chief Lu’s work, with two parts, called ‘Leveling All Things’ and ‘Rifling Trunks’. So, the answer is leveling all things internally, rifling trunks externally.”

Everyone began to carefully consider the deeper meaning.

A certain Daoist who had been joking around with an eunuch instantly froze. Regaining his senses with difficulty, the young Daoist wearing a lotus crown began to beat his chest, lamenting, “Fellow Daoists, don’t try to trick me! Whether you believe it or not, I never wrote anything called ‘Leveling All Things’ or ‘Rifling Trunks’! This is framing me, slandering me, harming an innocent! I have a teacher and senior brothers to rely on! Even if we set that aside, we’re still from the same hometown. We should meet on the road with tears in our eyes. How could you do this?”

Lu Chen suddenly stopped, noticing that the eunuch had revealed a thoughtful expression for the first time, looking towards a hidden eddy in the River of Time.

There, Zheng Juzhong found a Fourteenth cultivator who was difficult to classify as being in the present or the future, smiling. “Fellow Daoist, you are truly patient. Unless facing you directly, Chen Ping’an would never guess it was you.”

“Ma Kuxuan truly gave Chen Ping’an a good puzzle in this matter.”

“After all, due to those few taels of silver that weren’t requested back then, strictly speaking, it has no direct connection to Chen Ping’an, nor does it have any direct connection to you. The two parties at odds never said a word.”